


just short of a fairy tale

by mewantcandy



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Introspection, No Beta We Die Like August, gekkagumi, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewantcandy/pseuds/mewantcandy
Summary: in which august thinks, and the rest of his family bullies each other.
Relationships: August & July & Mikage Hisoka & Utsuki Chikage, August/July (A3!)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	just short of a fairy tale

August thinks that the words ‘quiet’ and ‘family’ have never really fit together in the context of his own life.

Now, as he sits on the couch on Sunday evening, is probably the closest he’ll ever get. December’s head lies in his lap, eyes closed as he sprawls out onto the couch, but August knows he’s listening to the movie. April has long since stopped trying to push his brother off his lap in favor of watching what’s playing on their small television. July is beside him, head leaning on August’s shoulder as his eyes follow the actors on the screen.

The curtains have been pulled shut, letting in only the faintest shine of moonlight from outside. All the lights in their little living room have been turned off, with the distant yellow light from the kitchen being the only source of brightness other than the movie. It’s an old spy movie, made maybe a decade or two ago. A lot of it isn’t accurate, August thinks with a little smile, but it’s good entertainment value. (Laughing about the things that cause you pain is  _ some  _ form of coping, right?)

December doesn’t seem to agree, mumbling something under his breath about how fake all the roof-hopping looks. April mutters his assent, glaring at the screen as though that would make its plot holes close up. August doesn’t quite disagree, but he laughs anyway, and July, on his other side, tells them to pipe down, because some people are actually trying to watch the movie.

April complains about how July has horrible taste, the absolute worst, because there’s no way he could  _ actually  _ be enjoying whatever this is, before his attention is promptly drawn away by the climax of the movie. August doesn’t bother pointing out the irony.

Instead, he leans back into the worn-out sofa and lets his lips curve into a soft smile. It’s nice and warm here, in the little home they’ve made for themselves. July fits right beside him, the curve of his waist fitting into the palm of August’s hand, and August has to fight the urge to tease him by saying he’s infinitely cuter when he keeps his mouth shut. December’s hair is soft as August plays with it, and he looks like a large white kitten when he’s sleeping, undisturbed by anything outside. And April looks more relaxed than he’s ever looked, slumped into the back of the couch, eyes staring at the screen with something like anticipation and happiness in them.

August wonders if he fits into the family they’ve created. He’s not sure he does. He’s always just a little too wary, a little too alert, scanning every inch of their home until he’s memorized it, in case, one day, he’s forced to forget. It’s the way he can’t quite focus on the movie, the way his eyes keep flickering from July to April to December to April to July to December, over and over, like they’ll disappear if he blinks.

His family knows something is wrong, but they haven’t asked. August isn’t sure if he wants them to ask. He knows whatever he’ll say will be a lie, and they’ll know it’s a lie, and even if they didn’t, he hates lying to his family. They don’t ask. He doesn’t tell. It’s better that way for everyone.

For July, for December, for April.

If he doesn’t say anything, there won’t be a chance for them to remember, and as long as they keep forgetting, August can keep them safe. He sinks further into July, and July leans right back against him.

The movie ends, credits fading to black, and April stretches his arms over his head. July tells him to try and get some sleep before he has to return to work in the morning, and December sleepily murmurs that Chikage’s never gotten a wink of sleep in his life. August stops them before a fight breaks out, a smile playing on his lips as he tells them off for adding even more wrinkles to their mom’s face. July snaps at him, saying he has no wrinkles, and that he’s not their mom, Misha, do you want me to punch you?

August shakes his head and grins as he leans away, pouting as he tells July he’s woken Hisoka, so don’t be so violent. April snorts, saying he won’t save Misha if an attempted homicide actually happens in their home. August gasps in betrayal, and says he doesn’t want to know if Hajime can actually do any damage with his stick arms.

He can, and August knows he can, even if July himself doesn’t, but August knows, too, that he’ll be able to run circles around  _ this  _ July. July shakes his head in disbelief, and a smile tugs at his lips when he stands up, and the warmth doesn’t press quite so closely into August’s side anymore, but it’s still there, ever-present, radiating from the three other people in the room.

July holds a hand out, and April tugs December off August's lap, muttering something about stupid gay parents. December follows, sleepily getting to his feet, and August takes July's hand and lets himself get pulled up.

They murmur their goodnights to each other, as April flicks the television off, and July pulls August back into their small shared room and under the covers.

Hidden beneath the blankets, August lets himself smile. July whispers softly. Good night. I love you. August whispers the words right back.

**Author's Note:**

> characterization who? idk her. this is my first attempt at writing august and july, and even these are't canon augju, so! idk. guess i'll die! hmu on twitter, link in profile.


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